


No more illusions

by elenastillhere



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Roller Coaster, First Kiss, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hug Scene™, Hug scene, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pseudo-Incest, Rating will change, Sibling Incest, mentions of frigga's death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenastillhere/pseuds/elenastillhere
Summary: Loki cannot recall when he was last held like this by anyone, if ever....yet another Hug Scene fix-it.





	No more illusions

**Author's Note:**

> The biggest thanks to my wonderful beta SatansSin!! <3 All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Note! This chapter is tame, but for the next one I will hike up the rating to M/E.

“If you were here, I might even hug you.”

“I’m here.”

For a fracture of a second Thor stills, then a perfectly _mischievous_ grin – not much unlike that of Loki’s signature smirk – spreads of his lips.

“What?” Loki – the God _of_ goddamn mischief – asks, wavering under his brother’s unexpected expression.

“Well now, brother, a king must never go back on his word.” 

Thor’s grin just widens, if possible, and Loki’s sudden gut reaction is to take a step back. But – oh, _damn_ – just a step doesn’t seem to take him anywhere. Loki finds himself with his back against the now closed door, his huge brother, this one-eyed God of thunder, coming at him with rapid speed, arms spread wide. 

“Dear brother!” Thor practically bellows, as he stoops preparing to scoop Loki up from the ground and probably crush him to death between his arms.

“What the _hela_ — _Thor_!” Loki yelps, _literally_ slipping away at the last second, making his brother more or less collide head first against the door with a thud.

This, however, does not seem to discourage Thor even the slightest. 

On the contrary.

He lets out a great roar of laughter and turns to Loki again.

Loki has his hands held up, palms toward Thor, as if trying to calm a mighty boar.

“Whatever has possessed you, brother?” Loki tries to back away slowly and plan his escape, all the while keeping his eyes on Thor for signs of his next move. He had put himself in disadvantage dodging Thor to the left, leaving the door to the room behind his brother’s back.

“Come here, _brother_!” Thor bellows, grinning, and darts after Loki again. 

Loki is not even trying to keep his calm any more. His brother must have truly gone mad! 

As Thor moves at him again, Loki spins around, leaps on a chair – which he’s grateful no one is present to witness – away from his brother’s reach and then darts to the door.

Right when his fingertips grace the door’s lock system, Loki makes a fatal error of judgement and turns his head to look back at Thor. Startled by how close his maniac of a brother is, his one eye glowing with what Loki hopes is mere glee and not the power of hundreds of lightning strikes, Loki loses his footing and falls. 

Thor, the mighty warrior used to catching his precious Mjöllnir from whichever angle, has no difficulty in scooping Loki up from mid air, not even while throwing a fist pump of victory. In seconds Loki finds he has his back pressed against Thor’s wide chest, his brother arms locked tightly around him. 

Loki knows there’s no room – nor sense – in struggling but he does nevertheless. He awkwardly _wriggles_ – oh dear Gods – about, after getting his feet under him again and just ends up more breathless than he already was.

“Loki,” Thor’s deep bemused voice calls his name by his ear, “why must you struggle, when you know it is in vain.” 

“I do _not_ struggle,” Loki complaints, irritated, and hopes immediately that he would have kept his lips tight and closed, instead of sounding like a child in this already humiliating situation.

Thor chuckles amused, and Loki can hear that his brother as well has heard in the words Loki’s younger self. “You do not welcome the embrace of your king, your brother?” Thor asks, pretending to be scandalized.

Loki resigns to just grind his teeth together and stand as stoic as he can to save the last of his dignity. Thor will grow fed up with this game soon enough and then Loki will have the high ground.

“So many an Asgardian would cherish such moment all their life.“ Thor takes a deep breath, as if preparing for a disappointed sigh, but stops suddenly. “Uh, you–” he utters, the tease completely gone from his voice. 

Loki can feel his brother tilt his head and gently press his face deep into Loki’s hair. Against his back Thor takes a deep breath, his chest filling with air and pressing even closer to Loki.

“You–” Thor says, his voice now quiet, “You smell of Mother.” 

“And you _look_ like Father.” The retort escapes Loki’s lips without a thought, just by force of habit, even before the meaning of Thor’s words actually have had time to register.

Like a sharp burn when touching a flame, Loki feels a pang of regret. It makes him still, hold his breath, just as Thor breaths out his own – a warm puff, that travels down Loki’s neck and under his collar.

Loki waits for angry words, for a crushing hold around his throat or a forceful shove, but none of it comes. 

To Loki’s surprise, Thor lets out a low warm chuckle, still nosing his nape. 

“So I do,” the blond God agrees and continues, thoughtful. “But I welcome it. In this way, Father will always stay with me.”

Loki does not reply. But this time not for the sake of his dignity, but because of his brother’s words. Even in grave loss, his brother seems to find the light. Even now he does not turn to bitterness. Mare hours after the destruction of his kingdom, his _home_ , Thor stands there holding Loki – not being held.

Loki tries to heighten his senses with his magic, tries to catch even the slightest trace of his mother. 

But there is nothing. 

To him Frigga is only there in his thoughts, in his ever fading memories. Not even any projection can come close to the real person, so he has stopped trying. And he had tried. Drowning in sorrow he had tried and failed so many times - repeating the sad cycle that this life seems to repeat in different doomed variations.

“Tell me,” escapes Loki’s lips, and if there’s a hint of desperation, and more than a hint of longing in his voice, he does not care if Thor notices.

“You smell as she did in the coldest of winter mornings,” Thor starts, his voice low and soft. ”When we would as children climb into Mother and Father’s bed in their chambers to wake them up. To warm us up between them. To laugh as they pretended to squirm when our tiny bare feet cooled by the marble touched their skin.”

Loki can see it before his eyes, remembers the moments as Thor describes them – the blessed ignorance of his childhood. The time when he still _belonged_. Belonged under the thick covers with that family, belonged in Asgard with its people.

Though even then, he should have known. 

Even then, the cold marble of the castle corridors they ran through, only felt pleasantly cool against his feet and he only laughed and shrieked at the cold to join in with his brother.

Anger flares in Loki’s mind, but the flame burns out as quickly as it is born. He is too tired. 

“I do not sense it,” he says instead, once again giving up on the efforts to catch any trace of his mother. 

“She is there.” Thor’s words are gentle, sure, his breath once again warm against Loki’s neck. 

Loki let’s his breathing follow Thor’s. In and out. In — and out. 

He feels so very tired. Everything so utterly pointless. The dark universe spreading out before them behind the ship’s windows mirrors the emptiness inside him.

Only his brother’s warm breaths keep him grounded in the face of its vastness. A steady rhythm against his back, traveling down his neck and under his collar.

Loki breathes out and let’s go of all the tension, all the whirling thoughts that keep his mind occupied at all times. Let’s go of all the anger, all the bitterness of his failures. 

Just breathes in. And out. Letting someone else set his pace for once.

He has never felt so light. 

Nothing has ever felt so crushing.

When the strong hold around him loosens, Loki finds he doesn’t want it to. When Thor urges him around gently and lifts his steady hands to cup Loki’s face, he does not resist.

“Loki,” Thor sighs, and moves his thumb over Loki’s cheek bone. It comes away wet and glistening. “No more illusions.” 

There’s a shimmering glow just around Loki’s face as he strips away the last layer of magic that protects him from the universe.

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor whispers – one word filled with such pain, such frustration and _loving_ – and pulls their foreheads together at the sight of his brother’s true emotions: eyes red, snow white cheeks glistening with tears, pain written all over the hard delicate features.

“I miss her,” Loki breathes.

”I know,” Thor cradles his face in his palms. “I know… It hurt the same with you.”

Loki trembles, letting himself be held. No-one but Thor will ever understand the extent of his grief. However far he’ll run, no matter how far their paths will diverge, they can never truly be separate. In their pain, they will always be brought back together again. 

There’s a cruel beauty in it which Loki admires, but finds he could live without.

Loki closes his eyes, wrapping the moment into darkness and let’s his cold tears fall freely down his cheeks. Thor’s warm breaths ghost against this lips, his brother’s firm body feels safe and unexpectedly familiar against him. 

Loki cannot recall when he was last held like this by anyone, if ever. He lets himself sink into the touch and just feels.

It feels as safe as when they were children and found sleeping outside, curled side by side, after a long day of adventures in the ancient forests of Asgard. Just the sky above them, but never feeling lost, always grounded by the other.

Just like then, right at this moment there’s no telling where Loki ends and Thor starts. Somehow all seems easier this way. So close to one another. So close that the line between them starts to blur, particles swirling to entwine. There’s no space for arguments, no safe distance to be measured.

Perhaps, this is why, when Loki feels Thor’s lips press against his, he does not startle. He feels relaxed, sated somehow, and he only realises what is happening when Thor stops and pulls back.

Loki’s eyes flutter open and he snaps out of it, for what he sees is not what he expects.

”Oh,” escapes Loki’s lips as he takes in his brother’s heavier breaths and darkened eye. ” _Brother_ ,” he says, teasing now, more himself again, his own tear streaked cheeks forgotten, though not yet covered up by his magic.

”Don’t.” Thor shakes his head.

”I did not think _that_ was what you desired?” Loki teases nevertheless.

Loki can sense Thor faltering inside even though he does not move a muscle. And suddenly, Loki realizes, he has the upper hand again. Thor has made himself vulnerable to Loki in the most intriguing, most unexpected way.

It is not most uncommon for their people to have relations amongst the family, it is not frowned upon, but of all the times it has happened a tragedy of some kind has followed. These stories have always intrigued Loki, and he knows that Thor is no stranger to the tales either. And that – _that_ excites him. 

_Thor_ , his worthy brother. Seeming not to care for the fate that might follow his act.

Now it's all for Loki to decide what happens next. He wants to laugh, so absurd the turn of events feels. He stays still though, looking at his brother, mapping his expression, enjoying the power he has been handed by Thor. 

” _Loki_ ,” Thor breathes out, voice strained and stern, like telling off a child that knows they are doing something they know they are not supposed to.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3 If you have the time, comments are my muse ;)


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